Hey gang, this is the second part of my two-chapter update! Hope you like it! If you haven't read chapter ten I suggest you read it!
Of all the things I thought I would be doing tonight, Pitch thought as he sifted through the racks upon racks of clothes in a local Burgess department store. This was not one of them.
He picked up a black T-shirt, trying to gauge what size she might be. Was the largest size 22 or 24 for t-shirts? No, wait a minute, they didn't use numbers for shirts did they? No, they used labels. Right. So he would be looking for a large then.
Pitch gently put the shirt back on its hanger and headed down the aisle to the farthest side of the shirt section and continued his search which he had been conducting for the last few hours for new clothes for the girl. He reached forward again and pulled out another t-shirt, this time green. Then he remembered her request on color preferences and put it back. Black, grey or purple. He reminded himself. Only those three colors, and not grey if I can help it.
So he started looking through a cluster of grey and black t-shirts hear the end of the rack, searching for something that might be more her style and preference. Though he had to be careful not to take too many things from one store. Humans were so abysmally territorial that they might actually start locking their doors properly if they figured out things were disappearing.
"And that wouldn't be very fun, would it?" Pitch said to himself with a smile, pacing down the rows. This was the third clothing store he had 'broken into' tonight and by far the more fruitful. The other stores had been full of nothing but fluffy, girly, pink garbage that he wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole. And, if it turned out that she did like pink, she would just have to deal.
Pitch sighed as he made his way down the aisle. It was his fault really. He had been the stupid one to offer her a bath and hadn't realized that she needed new clothes. It was actually a fairly obvious thing that he should've realized, but hadn't until she had requested the different clothes before entering the bath.
It was actually surprising to him that those rags she wore had kept her covered for as long as they had. Then again, she had been under blankets for the last three days and hadn't had much concern to look presentable.
Still, Pitch had agreed instantly, knowing the importance of clothes and the comfort they brought. So he had headed out in a mission to get her some new, clean, comfortable clothes.
At least, that was how it had started.
Once he got inside the first store however, he had realized that she hadn't given him any sizes to shop for. He had resisted the urge to face-palm, but knew that he was too far away from the caves to travel all the way back, just to ask her about sizes. So he had decided to just take a wild stab in the back at it with hope that, if he messed up, he would be able to come back later and get the right size.
But once he started actually looking for clothes, he realized that he couldn't just get her jeans and t-shirts to sleep in the entire time she stayed with him. She would want something looser, more comfortable. So, once he had acquired a few sets, he had switched from jeans to pajamas and now, several long hours later he was reduced to scurrying all across the town, trying to keep a low profile so the Guardians wouldn't stick their noses into his business. The fact that Sandy hadn't already told the others was a miracle that in and of itself, but in spite of that Pitch didn't want to press his luck.
He was having to juggle a lot recently; getting her food and now clothes, keeping the Nightmares under control, keeping the Guardians off his back and, eventually, once this latest travesty was over he would need to get back to his job and go do his rounds. He couldn't leave it all up to Onyx and the few rare Nightmares that he could trust, after all. As much as he wanted to take care of the girl, he couldn't neglect the other children that depended on him.
He sighed tiredly, sifting through the shirts before him. So this is what a single parent must feel like, he thought, weighing one shirt in his palm idly and comparing it to another on the rack. I really must remember to show Jamie's mother a little more respect the next time I drop by. Not that she sees me anyway, but still.
The shirt in his hand was about the right size for her- he hoped, but it was black. And she had specified that she wanted purple above all else. Which was what the one on the rack was, but it looked like it might be a bit too small. He looked from shirt to shirt, wondering what she would want more. Her favorite color, or a better fit.
He debated for a while before finally sighing and taking them both, stuffing them into the already brimming plastic bag that he had been lugging around for the last few hours. He had already hit the jeans section twice- once for her and then a second time in search of a few pairs for Jack. Wearing the same pants for hundreds of years wasn't very fun, after all.
"Maybe I should just head back and get the rest tomorrow night," he mused, looking from the bag to the racks. He had been out here for a while, and he didn't like leaving her for more than a few hours at a time. There was no telling what trouble might ensue.
So, with that in mind, he hauled the bag up over his shoulder and- looking very much like a creepy black Santa Clause, he made for the closest shadow and instantly re-appeared in his living room.
Pitch plunked the bag down on the couch and followed suit, feeling the comfort of his familiar upholstery as he sank down into it and reclined backwards. It had been a loooong day and boy was he tired. This had pretty much been his entire existence for the last few days which had seemed to bleed together for him in a random myriad of chaos and running errands. So much so that he hadn't even realized the days were passing until last night he checked the wounds on her hand and realized that they were almost fully healed.
She seemed pretty happy about that, as he recalled. Though she still had to wear the bandages around her wrists to keep the welts from returning. She wasn't happy about that, but she tolerated it which he was thankful for.
There were a lot of things he was beginning to be thankful for, actually. Among them the Nightmares' common sense. They knew better than to act up or cause trouble while he was this busy and they remained docile and compliant as the nights wore on, doing their duties and not even stepping a hair out of line because they knew he wouldn't be pleased.
Pitch himself paid the Nightmares little to no attention and turned over the majority of their supervision to Onyx when she wasn't busy watching the girl. He was too distracted with trying to make her feel comfortable and at ease with being here. He spent every waking hour that he wasn't out doing him job combing through his library for more information on her, stalking the unlit grocery stores at night once everyone else had gone home to procure more food for her and, of course, talking to her. And the latter had produced very good results indeed.
Since their little connection following her run-in with the spider, Pitch noticed that she seemed a little more relaxed and calm around him and Onyx, and he encouraged this as much as he could. He hoped that, with the combined influence of him and Onyx, plus giving her gifts and helping her to physically heal, she would finally open up enough to tell him her name.
He sighed, looking from the bag lying beside him to his TV. He hadn't watched a single episode of Total Blackout in nearly a month- since before this whole thing had started actually, and he found himself missing his favorite show.
I'll watch it later. He told himself firmly, standing up and stretching. When all of this is over with. Maybe I'll even watch it with her.
But, for now, all he could do was get these clothes back to her and hope that the bath had been to her satisfaction.
Pitch hauled the heavy bag up and over his shoulder, grunting as the weight bore down on his skinny frame. I need to start hitting the gym again, and soon. He thought as he started heading back down the corridor, heading towards the baths. Before my muscles turned to jelly.
He made his way down through the tunnels, hauling the bag on his back which made the going a lot slower than it normally would be. But he endured. Until he got about half-way down the tunnel and decided that to hell with it, he was just going to shadow-travel because this was taking too damn slow and run the risk of frightening her.
One quick trip through the undulating realm of darkness later and he was standing in the bathing cavern. He stepped out of the shadows, slinging the bag down beside him on the ground and, before he even looked around he called out, "Hey, I'm back! And I brought you some more clothes!"
Silence greeted him.
Pitch frowned, looking around. The cavern was unusually steamy and there was an unusually strong fragrance on the air. As he peered through the gloom, he saw neither the Nightmare, not the girl. Instantly panic began to flood through him. "Onyx?" He hollered, listening to his voice echoing throughout the massive cavern. "Girl?!" Nothing. "ANYONE?!"
All was still and silent.
Pitch started to hyperventilate. Where was she? Was she alright? Had she tried to escape? Had she drowned?! Thousands of fears flooded through his mind, each thought more terrible and likely than the last.
"ONYX!" He yelled, trying to keep calm as he stormed through the cave like a hurricane, searching every nook and cranny for her but found nothing. He even scanned the pool which had a thin layer of mist rolling over it like the seaside at dawn, but he found no trace of her. "ONYX, GIRL! Where are you?!"
Beside himself with fear and not knowing what else to do, he snatched up the bag and started running through the shadows from room to room, trying to find even a single sign of her or Onyx. Everything was happening in seconds; there wasn't any time to waste. He appeared, scanned the room for her and, when he did not find her, he vanished one more.
He kept calling their names too, but he was too worried to even think about calling the Nightmare telepathically. "ONYX!" He hollered, running through the hallways like a madman, scanning everywhere with wild, frantic eyes. Oh dammit, why isn't anybody answering me?!
Suddenly, a thought struck him. Maybe she was in her room! Seizing upon that he bolted down the corridor, straight towards her room. He used a few cheats and shortcuts to get there, but in the end it didn't matter. He still managed to get there and when he did he exploded from the wall through a shadow, anxiously looking around for any sign of the girl. Nothing, nothing- THERE! She was sitting on the bed with a towel wrapped around her and another one draped across her lap. Onyx stood beside her. They had evidently been talking but when he appeared all conversations ceased.
The girl moved with the speed of lightning, ducking underneath her covers until all he could see of her was her face. "HEY!" She yelped, glaring at him from over the rim of the blankets. "What's the big idea?!"
Pitch! Onyx whinnied in surprise. What are you doing?
Pitch immediately back-pedaled. "Sorry!" He apologized, averting his eyes. "I'm sorry child I didn't mean to barge in!"
The look she gave him clearly said that she didn't care, as long as he got out but he kept babbling, in a feeble attempt to justify himself and retain some of his dignity.
"You weren't in the bath cave and- and I called for you but no one answered me. I..." He sighed, dropping the bag and hanging his head, realizing just how stupidly he had acted. "I was worried for you."
The Nightmare snorted and he shot her a quick glare, but when he looked back at the girl he found that she wasn't glaring or rolling her eyes at him in exasperation, as he had expected her to do. She was simply staring at him with those piercing green eyes, never wavering. Her expression was blank as a slab of marble but, somewhere in the depths, Pitch thought he saw a glimmer of sadness lurking behind her blank gaze
He frowned. "What's that look for?" He asked.
She didn't respond.
He didn't really know what to say, so he tried to steer her attention towards a different source. Pitch put on a pretty good false smile and held up the bag. "Hey, look what I brought back! Here's all the clothes you asked for- some of the jeans are for my grandson you can just put those back in the bag, but at least now you have something comfortable to wear!"
Her expression seemed to brighten a little, but she remained huddling under her blankets. "Good. Thanks. Now leave me alone and let me get dressed! It's bloody cold in here!"
He chuckled. "Fair enough." He took hold of the bag and moved over to her bed, dropping it beside her and then moving away. As he got closer to her he noticed her hair. It was partly dry- still tangled, but it did look a lot better. There was no dirt in it, and the color was much brighter than before. Her face- what little he could see of it, was much cleaner as well and her skin practically shone with radiance. He smiled. "I assume you liked the bath?" He asked, nodding at her face.
Finally, a smile! Her face split into a small grin and she reached up to touch her hair. "Oh gods, it was wonderful!" She said, closing her eyes and beaming in reminiscent rapture as she rubbed strands of hair between her fingers. "The shampoo worked wonders and the water never got cold!"
He smiled back, pleased. "Well, it does come from an underground lava hot spring." He reminded her, to which she shrugged.
"Fair enough." She admitted. "Now, in your own words, bugger off! That means you too Fluttershy," she directed at the nightmare.
Onyx whinnied indignantly. Excuse me?
"You heard me." She shot back, grinning. "Begone. Shoo. Bugger yea off!"
Pitch tried, and failed, to hold back a snort. "It's OK Onyx," he said quickly, reaching up to stroke her muzzle. He knew her well enough to know that she wasn't angry. Just annoyed. "It's OK. Let's give her some privacy." Onyx rolled her eyes and headed for the door. Pitch sent a quick telepathic message to tell her to wait outside for him before turning around to face her. "Just call me when you're ready." He told her gently, his gaze lingering on her face for a second and then on the bag, hoping that the clothes fit. "I'll be waiting right outside the door."
She nodded and as he shut the door he could've sworn he heard her mutter, "Creeper much?"
He chuckled. She has a very high opinion of herself, he thought, heading to the door. He opened and closed it without a sound. Either that, or she's just a sarcastic little shite. He bet the last one. But it might be the first. Who knew!
On the other side of the door stood Onyx, standing their patiently just like she always was. "Hey there girl," he said, walking over to her and leaning his forehead against hers in a gesture of appreciation. "You did a good job today. Thank you for taking care of her."
Onyx whinnied in agreement. I was just doing what you told me to. She replied modestly, bucking his shoulder. Bucking was a term ranchers used to describe the action horses make to indicate love and trust and involved butting her head against either the shoulder, chest or head gently. It was a lot like when a cat rubs its head against your hand. But Onyx was not a twenty-two hundred pound cat.
Pitch smiled, stroking her side gently. "Yes, but you didn't have to. You went above and beyond, and I appreciate it." He pulled away. "Now, I want you to head down to the pens and take a nice, long rest. Drink some water, take a nap and then you can go out on patrol tonight. You've earned it."
Onyx's lips pulled back in a happy grin. Thank you Pitch. She glanced at the door hesitantly, swinging her large head from side to side. Are you sure you want me to leave now?
Pitch nodded. "I'm sure." But she as still looking hesitant. "It'll be fine," he reassured her, patting her flank. "She just got out of a bath and I've given her the new clothes. What trouble would she possibly want to give me?"
Onyx shrugged. Yeah, I guess you're right.
"Of course I'm right." Pitch gave her a final pat on the flank to get her going. "Now go relax. Everything's going to be fine! I'm just going to talk to her, see if all the clothes fit and then she's probably going to go back to sleep. Simple as that."
Finally Onyx was reassured enough to leave. Pitch watched her go with a small smile on his face. Onyx did so much for him and he was glad to have her here to help him. She was his worker, his helper and, more importantly, she was his best friend. And he wouldn't trade her for anything in the world.
Once Onyx left, it was only a short matter of time before he was allowed back in. But, during that time he was resigned to tapping his foot idly, folding his arms over his chest and staring pointedly at the wall. If you were to look at him right then, you probably would've been reminded of his grandson. He had the same impatient look, the same gate, and he even tapped his foot the same way Jack tapped his cane when he was waiting for something.
Pitch sighed. Good gods how long does it take to try on a few clothes?! He wondered, unfolding his arms and glancing back at the door. He was getting slightly impatient, even though he had only been standing there for less than ten minutes. But he didn't have to wait much longer.
After a bit Pitch heard a noise from within and he turned around to face the door. "Can I come in?" He asked, listening intently.
There was a muffled response that Pitch took for a yes and he opened the door.
The first thing he saw was the girl. She was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed, on top of the covers. She was wearing one of the purple shirts he had gotten her, her hair was washed and hung in bouncy violet waves, framing her face and covering her shoulders like a cape. She was wearing jeans which, admittedly he found rather odd, but he decided to over-look it for now in favor of excitement and happiness that at least one set of clothes fit.
She looked up as soon as she heard the door open and when she saw him, her expression was slightly reminiscent of the deer in the headlights. Then it shifted to a small smile and she nodded. "Hello darkness my old friend."
Pitch chuckled. "Hello child." He couldn't help the beaming smile that lay on his lips as he walked towards the bed and stood beside her. "Well look at you!" He said, looking her up and down. There wasn't a single speck of dirt to be found, and the clothes looked like they fit her great. "All scrubbed up, you almost look like a normal human."
She rolled her eyes and her smile fell. She didn't look pleased. "Thanks." She muttered, folding her arms over her chest and looking down at her lap.
Pitch frowned and worry instantly flooded him. "Hey," he reached for her arm, laying his spidery fingers across it gently. "Is something wrong? Are they not comfortable?"
She shook her head. "No," she muttered. "Not that."
"Then what is it?" Pitch looked her over again. Nothing seemed to be ripped or torn, and the clothes didn't appear to be tight at all. Was she hungry?
He stood there silently for a few seconds, watching her face and waiting for some kind of reaction. She sighed, bowing her head. Her head hung in her face like a shining violet curtain and he resisted the urge to tuck it back behind her ear. Pitch saw movement out of the corner of his eye and his gaze was drawn to her hand. He watched as it slid across the bed, back behind her and then under the pillow. His self-preservation instincts kicked in and he almost reached for his scythe. Almost. But just as his hand started to twitch he stopped himself with a hand on his own wrist.
Thankfully she didn't seem to notice. Her hand kept reaching beneath the pillow until it appeared she found what she was looking for. She pulled her arm out and Pitch's eyes widened as he saw she was holding in her hand the small book he had given her. He went to speak, but stopped. She was swinging her legs out, over the edge of the bed as if she was making to stand up. And stand she did, straight as an arrow with her face set in a resolute mask as she turned towards him and held out the book.
He frowned. "Do you not like it?" He asked, taking the book from her with a puzzled expression on his face.
She shook her head. "No." She said. "It's not that." Her voice was small, as if she was fighting to keep the words from escaping her lips. Her hair was hanging in her face again, covering most of her expression but Pitch was able to make out pale skin and cold, fearful eyes.
Fearful? What does she have to be fearful about? He wondered. "Then what is it?"
She took a deep breath, like he did when he was about to attempt some very strong magic and raised her hands like a sorcerer. Her eyes were shut tight in concentration and her body slowly started to quiver.
Pitch's eyes widened. "What are you-" But the words petered out. Something was happening to her body. The quivering was becoming more prononuced and from his perspective several feet away it seemed as if the bones beneath her skin and muscles were actually shifting!
She gritted her teeth, clenching her hands tightly enough to turn the knuckles white and Pitch saw tiny streams of blood running down her palm from where her nails bit into the flesh.
"Stop that, what are you doing?!" He cried, taking a step forward and trying to stop her form hurting herself but the girl's head snapped up and she snarled.
"Get back!" She ordered. Pitch almost flinched. Her voice had deepened drastically, and her eyes were burning with so much fiery fury that he feared they might melt her.
Pitch backed up. "Alright, alright." He said gently, raising his hands in submission while he frantically tried to think of what might've brought this sudden wave of anger on. Had he insulted her in some way? Had he done something to anger her? Or maybe she was just afraid. But he couldn't feel any fear coming off of her. Just what the hell is going on here?
While Pitch had been trying to come to grips with the situation, he had also been failing to notice the rapid changes in her pigment and height. And when he finally pulled out of his thoughts he discovered that she had grown to almost his height and her skin had morphed into a dirty dishwater grey, not unlike his own pallor.
Her clothes too had changed. Instead of the purple shirt and jeans she had been wearing the clothes had collapsed into a black mass which merely covered her body as it tried to re-animate itself into a reasonable facsimile of what it was supposed to be. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists. A low growl escaped her lips as the Change began to grow more and more aggressive, taking over every part of her being. Pitch had seen it twice before already, but nothing could've prepared him for this.
There was no screaming or wailing, thankfully. Only the deadly silence that enveloped them both as the final stages began to take place. Her hair retracted back into her scalp until it hung at shoulder length and her face contorted. But not a single scream passed her lips. Pitch watched in horrid fascination as the metamorphosis continued. There was something profoundly terrifying about what was happening in front of him. He knew what she was trying to do- at least, he knew a little of it, and he also knew that it was something he should put a stop to but somehow...he couldn't. He just kept watching, frozen to the spot like a statue.
In another few seconds, the transformation was complete. The final changes had forced her to crouch down, huddling like a dog from a winter storm but when she straightened up Pitch found himself staring, slack-jawed, at not the girl who had stood before him not five minutes ago, but an exact copy of none other than himself.
The double of him- and it was a double. There was no doubt about that. It had every bit of him down to a T, from the way he held himself to his hair. Every bit was there. -lifted its head up and looked at its still outstretched arms. It nodded appreciatively, its eyes sparkling with dangerous intent. Then it turned its attention to him.
It grinned a malicious grin and even though he knew it was not the girl's own, he almost thought he could see her featured hiding behind the illusion.
"This is nothing personal, I hope you know." The girl who had taken his form said- in her own voice no less. Pitch tried not to grimace. It was more than a little disconcerting to hear a young girl's voice come out of your mouth. "I just need to leave and...this was the easiest way."
Pitch blinked. "Wait, leave? What are you talking about, you can't leave!" Thousands of unspoken questions streamed through his brain, begging to be let loose. Where would you go? How would you learn about your powers? Why would you leave here? Am I not doing good enough? What did I do wrong?!
But she had that smile back on her face again. Or, rather, his smile on his face. It was that old familiar smile that had graced the Boogeyman's features on occasions when he had been inclined to create utter hell and torture for the poor humans which fell under his wrath, back in the old days when he had been the terror of the night. The smile that had been the terror of the world, both spirit and human alike.
"Can't I?" It asked and, before Pitch had even a millisecond to prepare himself, a bolt of black sand flew from one of his double's outstretched hands and arced across the room, hitting him squarely in the chest with enough force to throw him backwards like a rag doll.
Fortunately for Pitch, he had been in enough fights over his ten thousand years that his body automatically twisted as he fell to absorb as much of the blow as he could. The nightmare sand didn't hurt him at all, as it was a part of him, and when he landed on the rocky ground he only had to take a minute to shake his head and clear it before he was staggering to his feet again.
"Please," he said, raising his hands. He was starting to panic. He really didn't want to hurt her but...what if she left him no choice? "I don't want to hurt you! Whatever I've done, I'm so sorry and I will try to rectify it, but only if you change back and was can talk about this calmly-"
"No." It interrupted firmly. "No more talk." It sent another bolt of nightmare sand heading straight at him but this time, he managed to duck it.
Okaaay, so she really means business. He fell back against the wall, breathing heavily as he tried to figure out how to deal with this. This is what he knew so far: She wanted to leave. Badly. And to do that she had somehow learned how to mimic his shape and use his powers. Which she was willing to use to any means to escape. He sighed. "OK," he said, locking gazes with her. "OK. If you don't want me to talk, when why don't you?"
The double raised an eyebrow and Pitch took that as an invitation to continue.
He tried to make himself sound wise and learned, the way North did when he was telling Jack something incredibly important. "Why don't you tell me why you want to leave so much. Is it really that bad here?" He gestured around. "And anyway, what would you leave this for? A life running from other spirits that want to kill you, sleeping wherever you can, taking hundreds of years to learn how to do your job? Is that really what you want?"
As he spoke, the expression on his double's face had gradually become less and less confident and when he was finished, it was looking down at its feet with an expression of annoyance and resignment. "No." It said quietly.
Pitch nodded. "There you go. Now why don't you change back, we can forget about all of this and move forward with our-"
"No," It interrupted. "I don't want that." It raised its head and looked him dead in the eyes and Pitch's sweat dropped. He knew that look. The steel in his eyes, the jutted set of his chin. She was about to do something incredibly stupid. "But I will deal with that when it happens." And with that, she sent another, more powerful volley of nightmare sand right at him!
Pitch had no chance. The sand slammed into him like a tidal-wave, throwing him into the air and then yanking him down to lay in a crumpled pile on the ground. The sickening crack of his head on the stone echoed throughout the entire room, causing a ringing in his ears like chimes and all he could do was let out a low moan and hope that nothing vital was broken.
"Ooh," he moaned, wincing as he shook his head to try and clear it. Good gods, somebody get the number of that bus. His gaze was fuzzy and unfocused, but his hearing was still in good shape and as he groggily lifted his head, he felt a rush of wind rush past his face and heard fast-paced footsteps. Shit, she's trying to leave!
Summoning all of the strength he had left he reached out an arm to try and stop her- though really, what would that have done? Caught her leg and tripped her up, maybe. But, displaying the reflexes of a seasoned martial artist and the flexibility of a gymnast- even if she had taken his form and he wasn't the most graceful of spirits, she leaped over his clumsy outstretched arm and continued to race towards the door.
He groaned. Dammit. "STOP!" He yelled, firing his own bolt of nightmare sand to block the doorway. The sand, obeying the whim of its master, stitched itself into a net of pulsating strands faster than the double could blink and before she realized what she was doing she ran full-tilt right into the web which closed around her like a snare around a rabbit and Pitch thought that was the end of it.
Boy was he wrong. The double fought like a demon, even though she was wrapped up like a silkworm in his nightmare sand. As Pitch raised his head he could see her fighting it violently from the inside. Occasionally a foot or a fist broke through but the sand compensated for it and covered the break in the net. But it was the screaming that was the worst. It was a horrible mixture of his and her voice, ranting and screaming like a banshee. It caused shivers to run up his spine, and he didn't get shivers very often.
Pitch rose to his feet, trying to quell the rising fear inside his heart as he walked towards the floating mass of sand. He hoped that he could reason with her, maybe like this she would finally calm down and listen to reason.
As he drew nearer to the ball of sand, the fighting double within grew less and less violent and the yells began to falter until he stopped right in front of it and they finally ceased altogether. The net hung in the air, completely motionless.
Pitch sighed, not sure what to say. Did he apologize? Did he yell at her? He wasn't sure. Then finally, after a long moment he said slowly, "I'm... sorry it had to come to this. I didn't want to hurt you. I still don't."
The double- if he looked close enough he thought he could actually see it huddled between the threads, didn't speak or move.
He reached up and rubbed his forehead tiredly. "Look, will you please just speak to me? I'm sorry that I put you in here, but I'm not sorry that I won't let you just run off into the wilderness of the world to get hurt, or to meet some dangerous spirits and become a slave or- or worse, to not be believed in at all!" Pitch had lost full control of his emotions by now and was back in full-on rant-mode. Why was she so damn stubbornly dead-set on leaving? What had the outside to offer her that he didn't?! "You don't know how painful that is child because you've never been out in the world!"
Not a single sound nor shadow of movement penetrated the sand.
Pitch exhaled a long, steady breath, trying to relax himself. "I'm not trying to scare you," he told her gently, putting a hand to the net and letting it all fall away beneath his fingertips. It dropped the double as gently as it could onto the rocky ground. The double's body tipped sideways and he had to quickly shoot a bolt of nightmare sand that wrapped around her head and cushioned her from impact as it hit the floor and dissipated as he snapped his fingers.
Pitch quickly knelt at the double's side, checking for signs of her being unconscious. Her heart rate was slow, her breathing steady, and she was not moving an inch. All good, common signs of unconsciousness. He went to pick her up and carry her back to her bed but as soon as he touched her she erupted back to life and started swinging every which way.
Pitch leaped backwards to avoid several blows. Damn she's good, he thought with slight admiration as the double jumped to his feet and, not even taking a second to look around, bolted for the door.
The Boogeyman sighed. Here we go again. He sent another net of sand towards the door but she had known it was coming and simply barreled through it, breaking the strands like butterfly net and racing down the hall. Pitch gritted his teeth and slowly got to his feet, lamenting his beaten and battered frame. This was gonna hurt. After waiting a few seconds to get his bearings, he took off after her, following the sounds of his footsteps and hoping that his barriers would hold.
Time appeared to stand still as he chased the double all around the caves, only getting brief glimpses of it- a flash of robe here, a foot ducking around the corner there, before she would dart off down another corridor in hopes of finally finding a way out. He called out to her many many times, but she continued to ignore him. The only responses he got were derisive laughter and yells of frustration.
He briefly contemplated calling Onyx to assist him in corralling her, but then he shook his head and thought better of it. She obviously wasn't a fan of the Nightmares, so bringing them out again to hunt her down like a fox would not do well for the situation. With a resigned sigh, he took off once again after her. She was starting to slow down finally and as they both raced through the caverns, shining walls flashing past him too quickly for him to even register where he was.
By the time he finally cornered her, she had made it all the way up to the entrance and he found her banging on the barrier, screaming for it to let her through and when she was rebuked that just made her all the more angrier. Pitch forced himself to be silent as the shadow he used to be as he slowly crept up on her, watching her beat against the invisible barrier whih only appeared as a dark haze when her fists made contact. As he got closer, his heart started to drop and he felt pity for the child.
"You know," he said quietly, once he was only about a two yards away. "The only thing you're going to get if you keep doing that is a broken hand."
The double spun around to face him and Pitch could've sworn he saw its face flicker, jumping between his face and hers. Her hands were balled into fists and Pitch saw his own eyes reflecting back at him, gleaming with anger, fear and- was that a glimmer of excitement hidden somewhere in there?
"Let...me...out!" She snarled, staring him straight in the eyes with no wavering whatsoever.
Pitch shook his head. He could almost see her face, hidden behind his as if his face were just a papery mask which may be blown away by the slightest gust of wind. It was a surreal experience. "I can't do that." He told her. "Now, come to me and we'll go back down to your room and talk about this."
It let out a groan of utmost contempt and folded his arms. "You just don't get it, do you?! I'm...not...staying here."
"Just stop this," Pitch told her, taking a few steps forward. The double was tense, ready to strike if need be so he kept his tone calm and collected. "Please. There's no where you can run. I know we've both made a few mistakes, but can't we just sit down and talk about this like civilized people?"
She didn't respond. He could see the double's gaze flicking back and forth, from him to the dark walls on either side of her, then back to him. She grinned a familiar vampire-like grin.
Pitch's eyes widened. Oh shit. She wouldn't!
She did. As soon as he thought it, she threw herself to the left and straight into the dark shadows that rested complacently behind and in the rock. She dissapeared in a whirl of darkness and shadows, into the void.
Pitch stood there for a second, frozen in a mixture of shock and fear for her safety. Then he shook his head. It was no use worrying about her, not when he could go in after her! And this time, he would need the horse.
He turned around and put his hands to his lips, hollering in the loudest voice he could possibly muster which echoed down the corridor in rolling waves of sound. "ONYX!" He tried to keep the fear out of his voice but it was practically impossible. He would not lie, he was scared for her. Hell, he was scared for anybody that got trapped inside the shadow realm. It was a hellish, cold, dark maze of a place that he had to travel through almost every day, and even after ten thousand years of experience dodging the shades that lived there who tried without fail every time he went there to drag him down to join them, he still didn't like it.
"Oh gods I'm never going to hear the end of this." He grumbled, sending out a wave of telepathic energy that was sure to get the Nightmare's attention. "Onyx!" Dammit where was that horse?!
A few seconds later- though it felt like an eternity to him, he heard the rapid hoof beats of his chief Nightmare and he sighed in relief. About damn time.
She came around the corner like a hurricane, running frantically towards her master and she almost trampled him into the dust but, thankfully she realized where her master was and skidded to a halt. Her hooves ground down into the rock and produced a sound reminiscent of pennies scraped across a plate of steel and Pitch winced. Damn that was a horrible sound.
What's wrong Pitch? She asked, glancing around for the danger that her master had obviously called her to help combat. Where's the trouble? Her tail was thrashing anxiously and Pitch could see from the way she stomped her hoof and shifted her body idly. But he wasn't in the mood for chit-chat.
"Never-mind that now Onyx," he said, grabbing hold of her mane and yanking himself up onto her back. "We need to get into the shadow realm, now! I'll explain on the way!" He spurred her with his heels and Onyx, knowing better than to push it, started galloping straight towards the wall and the shadow she had disappeared into.
They hit the shadow and Pitch gritted his teeth as Onyx thundered through, coming out on the other side of the gateway almost instantaneously. It was like leaping, face-first, into a lake full of glass and ice. The utterly stunning cold bit at his skin, tearing little bits of flesh off as their customary tribute for allowing him to pass through, but the cuts and open wounds were quickly healed by Pitch's sand.
So, Onyx said as they barreled through the darkness. Her golden eyes mere pinpricks in the din but they were still bright enough to light the way. What are we doing here?
Pitch continued to focus on the space ahead. Almost within the first seconds of them entering the shadow-realm he felt the familiar tugging of the demonic shadows that lurked in the dark as they latched onto his arms and tried to yank him off his perch. He gave the one that had attached itself to his foot a good kick and it flew away, cursing him in the vile chattering language of the dark things.
"Long story short, she learned how to morph into my form and tried to use my nightmare sand to escape. I chased her, she dove into a shadow to escape me. Now we have to find her before she's devoured by the shades."
He expected Onyx's initial look upon hearing the news to be surprise, but instead she let out a whinny of amusement and snorted. Well, I told you she was going to escape at the first opportunity she got. Didn't I tell you that?
Pitch glowered at her. "Yes," he hissed, scanning the surroundings for any sign of her. "But I didn't expect it to be into the shadow realm!"
Onyx have another derisive snort. Of course you didn't expect that! But she did run into the shadow realm and now she's gone and endangered herself, all because YOU wouldn't just let her go! Maybe if you had trusted her a bit instead of keeping her locked up in here like it was Alcatraz-
"Just shut up and run," Pitch snarled. "We need to find her dammit!"
Though, in truth he was already mentally berating himself. It had seemed so simple just a few days ago! So utterly simple! Of course he had known she would escape again- or, at least try to, and he had also known that in light of her last attempt, she would be more careful and more sneaky about it. What he hadn't banked on, however, was how she had tried to escape. Or, more accurately, where to.
And now I'm running around in a hostile environment, trying to reach her before she gets devoured. Fan-bloody-tastic. And that's assuming she survived stepping through the veil in the first place!
As much as he hated to admit it, her not having made it was a very real possibility. The vale- the gateway which separated the planes of light and shadow, was one of the most volatile and dangerous ways to travel known to humans or spirits. If the soul of the spirit of human that went through wasn't strong enough, the vale would consume it and use its energy to expand the realm which, in itself had practically no definitions.
The vast expanse of shadows and darkness was damn-near unending, stretching out in all directions. There was very little light, as one might expect from a place dubbed 'the shadow realm', practically no gravity- which made traveling much easier than conventional means, and the only thing that broke the monotony of the different shades of black and grey were the occasional pillars of stone and very irritating staircases that cropped up at the most inopportune moments, floating in mid-air and occasionally crumbling.
For some really weird, sentimental reason, it kind of reminded him of his caves. Except that there were walls in his caves. And floors. And most of the inhabitants of his caves wouldn't try anything to eat your soul and turn you into one of them.
Well, Pitch reflected as they rode through crowds of writhing black masses. Not recently.
All in all, the shadow realm was not a nice place to be and Pitch would rather die than abandon anyone to their filth. But it did provide a service to him and, though he abhorred the shadow realm and everything about it, he continued to use it as his means of travel. That's not to say the demons were too happy about it.
Speaking of which, Pitch thought, grinding his heels deep into Onyx's sides and wrenching her to the left, dodging a cluster of shadows that were trying to block his path. Their black teeth gleamed in the light of Onyx's eyes. They resembled Fearlings slightly, but they didn't have their gangly arms or their wispy genie-esque lower body. Basically, they were clouds of smoke in a vaguely humanoid shape with teeth and beady black eyes that could spot out a light to be snuffed at a thousand yards.
Vile demons. Pitch close-lined another that was trying to latch on to his arm, forcing it to dissipate but it simply re-formed a few yards away, snarling and chittering like an angry squirrel. One of these days he was going to have to eradicate the lot of them. But for now, he had a much bigger problem on his mind.
"Do you see any sign of her yet?" He urged the horse, thinking, it shouldn't be this hard dammit! She's got to be the only thing that has color in this place!
Onyx scanned the surrounding area and was about to respond in the negative, but before her thoughts filtered through Pitch's brain a shrill scream tore through the air like a banshee's wail. The Boogeyman's gaze snapped towards where the sound originated, but he saw nothing.
"Onyx, go!" He yelled and spurred her. She reared up and lunged forward, her powerful body tearing through the smokey demons that tried in vain to block her way. "I heard her, she's there! Hurry!"
Onyx obeyed her master, flying through the darkness towards the continuous sound of screaming that made his heart twist with anguish. As they got closer she was beginning to smell the fear radiating off of the girl like a nauxious miasma of lavender and bitter almonds, and she knew that if she was smelling it her master was smelling it too.
She's absolutely terrified. Onyx said, almost to herself but Pitch answered her anyway.
"I know. I know." He said, wishing he could take the words back as soon as he said them. "But at least it lets us know she's still alive."
Onyx chuckled. Your sense of gallows humor is a constant source of amusement to me. But really, can you at least try to look on the bright side of things?
"What bright side?" Pitch snorted. "We're in the shadow realm dear."
They were close. So soooo close. He could feel the terror permeating the air like a perfume and when he squinted, he could just make out a lumpy shape surrounded by shifting smokey figures that whirled and danced around her. Onyx saw her as soon as Pitch did and she started running even faster. Her hoof beats echoed like thunderclaps and when the shadows heard her, they all turned as one to look at the on-coming horse and rider.
They didn't have a chance. Onyx crashed through the cloud like a thunderbolt and scattered the mass of shades to the four winds, revealing a familiar head of bright purple hair and a huddled form curled in on itself in a tight ball, hidden underneath the layers of darkness.
Pitch pulled Onyx to a stop and quickly dismounted her. After casting a quick bubble of black nightmare sand over them and setting Onyx to guard and repel the shades that were already re-grouping and trying to attack them, he raced to the girl's side and in a matter of seconds was kneeling in front of her.
"Are you alright?" He asked urgently, his eyes moving over her to see signs of injury. His eyes widened as he took in the damage. Strips of her flesh had been torn away and there were marks all over her, some appearing as bite marks and others seeming to be just scratches from some massive cat's claws. Her hair was missing chunks as if they had been torn straight from the scalp and there were bloodied streaks that he could see through the tears in her jeans and running down her arms in massive streams.
She was crying- sobbing really, into her hands which covered her face. Tears dripped down through her fingers and floated in the air for a little bit before slowly falling through the air into the great vastness below them.
Pitch felt an overwhelming wave of paternal energy washing over him and he reached up to touch her face but she jerked away with a yelp. "NO! No, get away from me!"
He tried not to flinch. Oh my gods she's so scared. If he didn't get her out of here she was going to have a heart attack. "Hey, it's me, Pitch. It's alright." He said gently, putting a hand on her shoulder.
Her head snapped up and their gazes locked for a second. In that second, Pitch saw an emerald whirlwind of pain, anger, sadness, hatred and yes, fear. He couldn't help himself. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. She didn't fight. "It's alright," he told her softly, letting her lean her head on his collar bone. "It's alright. I'm here now. You're safe."
Not for long you aren't, Onyx cut in.
Pitch glanced up. Shades were on top of the bubble, scratching and gnawing at it, trying to get at them. Their obsidian needle-like jaws gleamed and he gritted his teeth. It was going to be a bloody battle, just to get out of here!
He pulled away from the girl, holding her at arms' length. "Listen, I know you're upset," he said in as calm a voice as he could manage, under the circumstances. "But I'm going to need you to pay attention for a moment, alright?"
She sniffed, then nodded and said in a shaky voice, "OK."
He nodded. "Good. Good. Now, as you might've noticed we're not in the safest of places at the moment, and it would be good for us to vacate said place as soon as possible. You with me do far?"
She nodded and a small smile quirked the edge of her lips.
He smiled back. "Good. And to do that, I'm going to need you, when I give the word, to get on Onyx and hold on to her tightly. I'll be behind you the entire time, and we're going to ride out of here, hopefully with as little bloodshed as possible. And when I get you back home I'll fix you up, and then I swear I will let you leave." The words flowed so smoothly across his tongue and, for a moment he contemplated taking them back. But then he saw the hope in her eyes and realized that he couldn't. She needed to be free. He took a deep breath, then asked with a confident smile, "Sound good?"
She gave him a hesitant little smile, then nodded. "S-sounds good." She said.
Pitch chose to over-look the small stutter of fear in her voice and nodded. "Alright then." He turned to face the Nightmare, switching effortlessly from kind and caring to the tone Tooth had come to affectionately call his 'general voice'. "How bad is it Onyx?" He asked, surveying for himself. He couldn't even see Onyx now; there were so many shadows curled around the bubble of nightmare sand, each thrashing and writhing and chittering, creating a massive cacophony that almost made Pitch's ears split.
Onyx snorted. It's bad. I don't think they're going go like you coming in here for a while Pitch. Looks like you're going to have to learn to walk like the rest of us pedestrians. Or beg a few snow globes off the jolly fat man.
"As moon as my witness I will never EVER ask North to use one of those death-traps ever again." Pitch replied flatly, trying to judge the distance between them and her from just the sound of her voice. Probably three feet, maybe less. But could they make it? Onyx, listen to me. He spoke to the horse using their link. The shadows couldn't hear his thoughts and if they couldn't hear their plan, that might present an advantage. And they could use any advantages they were given right now. I'm going to make a run for it in a minute. Be ready to take the girl. I'll fight off whatever shades try to grab onto us, then I'll jump on behind her and you'll get us the hell out of here.
He didn't get a reply back, aside from some disembodied yelling and whinnying as she fought off the few shades that were bold enough to strike out at her.
He sighed. I hope she heard me, he thought as he turned back to the girl. She wasn't crying any more, which was good. Though he could see her eyes still glistening with residual tears. "Listen, I need you to get up and get ready to move, OK? We'll only have a short time to do this and I need you to be ready."
She nodded resolutely, trying to look strong but Pitch could see that she was shaking. Pitch decided to take pity on her and stood, then offered her his hands. She nodded gratefully and used him as a brace to pull herself up. She smiled. "Ready."
"Alright. On three. One," Pitch glanced in the direction of Onyx. He could still hear her yelling and hear the stomp of her hooves. "Two..." He could feel her tensing up. Good. She was ready to run. He slipped his hand into hers, to make sure she wouldn't get left behind. "Three!"
He bolted, she followed. Her hand was sweaty and as they pushed through the shadows he had to fight to keep a strong grip on it. The shades, who had been held back by the web of nightmare sand but had now been let loose, immediately lunged towards him and started scratching and biting as much as they could.
"Shit! GO, GO GO!" He yelled, pushing her up in front of him and towards Onyx. He could see her just mere feet away, thrashing and kicking up a storm as the demons surrounded her. But she was holding her own. "Don't stop, don't try to fight them off just go!"
She obeyed, racing towards the horse. Pitch followed her and as soon as they reached her side he grabbed the girl underneath the arm pits and hauled her up onto Onyx's back. He tried to be as gentle as he could, but the fact was they were running through their life.
As soon as he heard a familiar thump that indicated the girl was seated on her mount he swung up behind her and, not even taking a minute to secure himself, Pitch spurred Onyx and yelled, "GET US OUT OF HERE!"
Onyx needed no further encouragement. She reared up on her powerful hind legs and leaped forward, clearing the throng of demon shadows in one bound and clearing the way for her to race towards freedom.
Pitch, who was used to having Onyx climbing through the sky and then dropping into a nose-dive on a regular basis, took her speed in stride and leaned forward a little to compensate. The girl, on the other hand, wasn't as experienced and as Onyx rose and then fell, she leaned back and was almost jerked from the lack of saddle. She let out a scream and her arms started to flail wildly but Pitch, who had been in this kind of situation before, calmly reached around with both hands and tucked her hand back into Onyx's mane.
"It'll be fine," he whispered in her ear, resting his hands on top of hers to keep that from happening again. "Just trust me. I promise I will get you out of here safe and sound."
And just how are you going to do that? Onyx asked testily as she thundered past the waves upon waves of shadows that were coming for them. After that display, the only way we'll be able to get out of here in one piece is with a miracle! Or hadn't you thought of that your kingship?
Oh shut up. Pitch grumbled. I have a plan. Just keep running.
"What is she talking about?!" The girl yelled over the screams of the rapidly encroaching demons as Onyx strove forward, using her powerful head to disperse the few shades that tried to head her off.
Pitch winced. Right, Onyx hadn't been using telepathy when she said that. Dammit!
You should tell her! Onyx continued. If we're going to dissipate at least you should-
"Never mind!" He shouted, simultaneously yelling at Onyx to telepathically stop talking! I'll figure this out! "Just keep your head down and keep your arms tucked in!"
Getting into the shadow realm was relatively easy. Getting out... yeah that was a bit harder.
The principle behind the shadow realm- from what Pitch understood, was much like the principle behind the whirlpool. You got sucked in one way, went around and around for a bit and, if you were lucky, got spat back out the other side. But Pitch, because of his affiliation with the shadows, merely side-stepped those normally straight forward rule of realm-jumping by going around the realm itself and using it as a conduit to transport him from shadow to shadow, all across the world.
But sadly, that wasn't going to work this time. And that was assuming you were lucky enough to be spat back out in the first place and weren't taken into the darkness to gradually be broken down and then absorbed by the realm. Or worse yet, pulled into the void itself!
He shuddered shuddered slightly. The void. The nothingness. The proverbial doldrums and true Boogeyman for all spirits that knew of it. Eternally seeking souls and energy of both human and spirits to absorb and then recycle back into the world in the form of new life. Even though eventually everything was pulled into the void in its proper time, it was still a horrible prospect. An eternity of nothingness, with no sense of yourself or anything around you. Unending darkness.
Pitch shook his head. None of that matters now! I will not let her get pulled into the void dammit! Gritting his teeth and flushing all fears of the void from his thoughts, he narrowed his eyes and scanned the darkness once more, spying through the constantly moving shadows as if his eyes were equipped with radar. Where is it?! Where is it?! Dammit it's got to be here somewhere!
He was searching for even the slightest hint of light. A single slit in the fabric of the realm, leading back to the world where light and shadows co-enside, would be enough for them to pass through. He hadn't needed to use a portal like this before and wasn't even sure if it would work with passengers. Hell, he didn't even know where the portal would put them; he just had to hope to the moon that it would put him back in his home.
Pitch was about to ask Onyx if she saw anything when suddenly, out of the blue a single glimmer out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. "Onyx, there!" He yelled, wrenching her around in the direction of the light. As they turned he could see the hoard of angry shades racing after them. "Hurry, we don't have much longer!"
Onyx saw the glimmer and doubled up her speed. She could smell her fellow nightmares through the rip already. That meant they were close.
Pitch grinned, keeping his gaze fixed on the rip. It was just floating there like a eight foot tall glowing toothpick. The light that shone through it was multicolored and very beautiful. And, if he looked just right he could almost see the world beyond the gateway. He urged Onyx onward with a gentle but firm spur with his heels and calmly told the girl, "We're about to go through a portal. It might be a little jarring, but I want you to just close your eyes and think about the caves. Alright? Picture your room, as clearly as you can and with any luck we'll slip through the veil and make it back safely."
He felt her nodding stiffly. Then, in a timid voice she asked, "What if we don't make it back?"
Pitch closed his eyes. They were nearing ever closer. "We will," he promised her. "Trust me, we will."
She didn't respond back but as they reached the slit in the fabric of the realm and Onyx leaped through the gap which could've been no more than three inches wide, Pitch felt her hands tightly clenching his and he smiled, happy that he had provided some security to her. Even if this might be the last thing he ever did.
They erupted through the sliver of light like a fish leaping out of water. As soon as Onyx hit the portal Pitch found himself blinded and he was sure the girl- if she hadn't followed his advice, was in the same situation. He tightened his grip on her hands, keeping her steady while also effectively steering Onyx and making sure she didn't crash into something as he blinked the stars from his vision.
"Stop!" He yelled and Onyx, realizing that they had gotten through, slowed to a slow canter and then eventually stopped. Pitch took a few seconds to breathe and recollect himself before he turned his attention on the girl. "Are you alright? Can you still see?"
She didn't stir from her hunched position and Pitch feared the veil had taken her. But then she groaned and lifted her head groggily. "Where..." She mumbled, lolling her head from side to side and setting her hair swaying.
"Shh," Pitch told her gently, putting a hand on her shoulder. "It's OK. We're safe now."
She turned her head towards him and, purple hair hanging in her face, obscuring all of her features but one of her eyes which was squinting at him curiously, asked, "Where...are we?"
Good question. Pitch glanced around and was delighted to find himself in one of the corridors that led straight to his living room. One of the off-shoots that he never fully excavated and had left alone after the Nightmare war, it was meant to be a tunnel leading to the Warren for strategic purposes- since his first tunnel had been blocked by Bunnymund, but he had never finished it and here it sat, waiting for its usefulness to finally be realized.
Pitch smiled and said the two words he had never expected to say to anyone. "We're home."
XXXXXXXXX
It was a simple matter of getting her back to her room. Onyx graciously allowed Pitch and the girl the last few hundred yards to the door where Pitch disembarked and gently slid her off the horse's back. He carried her, bridal-style, through the door and into the room, laying her down on her bed and then leaving briefly to gather medical supplies to treat her injuries.
She strongly objected when he made to leave, but Pitch promised her solemnly that he would return as swiftly as possible and that in the meantime, Onyx would protect her. After a lot of coercing and a little help from his dreamsand, she finally agreed and Pitch was able to slip away. But, honoring his promise he returned will all haste and every single bandage in his medical supplies kit.
Then began the tumultuous and incredibly draining business of actually tending to her wounds. To put it mildly, she didn't make it easy. Every time he put a salve on the raw areas where strips of skin had been yanked away, she hissed and jerked away like it was acid he was putting on there and not antibiotic.
After the third time she did this he sat back in exasperation and told her sternly, "Look, either you do this or I'm going to knock you out so that I might finally get some peace and do it anyway!"
She had given him one of her signature death-glares, but had consented and had toughed it out the rest of the way without too much complaining. She cursed up a storm though. Every time he did something she didn't like- putting on salve, bending her arm the worng way, laughing at her, she would start swearing at him in a multitude of colorful languages. And some of them even he didn't know!
"What exactly is a Ik laat een scheet in jouw richting?" He asked, highly amused by her latest verbal exclamation.
She glared at him. "It's Dutch." She said shortly.
Pitch nodded. "Yes, but what does it mean?"
She told him and he busted up laughing. He hemmed and hawed like a donkey for a good five minutes, slapping his knee and filling the room with his throaty accent-tinged laugh. By the time he had laughed himself silly and was leaning back, still chuckling as he wiped a tear form the corner of his eye, even she was smiling.
They finished up the bandages in a matter of minutes and when they were done, Pitch asked if she wanted anything. She shook her head. He persisted. "Are you sure? Water? Something to eat? You must've been drained to hell after your ordeal."
She sighed tiredly and, after a few more minutes of his prodding she finally admitted that she might like a glass of water. Pitch immediately went out to fetch it but when he came back, bearing a tray with a huge pitcher and glass, he found that she had drifted off to sleep.
He stood in the doorway, smiling as he watched her snoring away. She was utterly exhausted. Putting the tray down gently on the table beside her bed so as not to clink the glass and wake her, he walked silently closer and came to stand beside her, staring down at her fondly. All of his previous anger, all of his pain, had simply drifted away when he had realized she was safe. He bore her no ill will. On the contrary. Nearly all of his emotions right now were geared towards her well-being and safety.
After standing there for a few minutes he spoke quietly. "Onyx..." He whispered to the horse who had been standing silently in the background for the last few hours, doing nothing but chuckling when the girl's cursing amused her. "I don't know if I'll be able to tell the others about her."
Onyx sidled up to him with an absolutely puzzled look in her eyes. Why not?
Pitch shrugged. "I don't know. I just...I don't want to see her get hurt again. She doesn't believe me about how dangerous a world it is out there, she doesn't even believe me about being a spirit! She takes reckless risks, gambling everything- even her safely on just getting out of here, even when I've supplied everything she might possibly want and even though I know she should be out there, with our own kind learning and growing, I just don't want to see her kill herself and if it was something I could've prevented I will never forgive-"
His tone was growing louder and more frantic by the syllable until finally he was so loud that Onyx saw the girl squirm slightly in her sleep and she kicked her master in the shin to shut him up. Knock that off! She snarled. You're gonna wake her up if you don't keep it down, and I'm pretty sure you don't want that.
Pitch, who was rubbing his legs and had been about to swear at her for the kick, quickly glanced at the girl in the bed, checking to see if she was in fact still asleep. And, once he surmised that she was sleeping soundly, he sighed.
"Thank you Onyx." He said in a hushed voice. "I'm afraid I let my tongue get carried away."
She nodded. That's alright. As long as you don't wake her up, you're good. She told him. And as for the worrying, that's normal when you become a parent. Or for anyone taking care of another person, really.
Pitch's eyes widened. "P-parent?" He stammered. He had never even considered it that way but, now that she mentioned it...
She nodded impatiently. Well of course. You're basically taking this girl in, treating her like your own and trying to help her become a better person. If that's not being a parent I don't know what is.
Pitch nodded, letting it sink in. He was...a parent. An adoptive parent sure, but a parent none the less. He had taken her in, clothed her, cleaned her up and had tried his hardest to keep her out of trouble. He basically was her surrogate parent.
Maybe I can adopt her, like Sera adopted Jack! He thought, his heart hammering with excitement in his chest. His eyes widened as the possibilities hit him. I can be her family! And maybe Tooth, if she lets her! Oh, this'll be perfect! I can teach her how to be a spirit, she'll meet the rest of the Guardians and maybe even Manny, and he can tell her just how and why she became a spirit! Oh, this is all so perfect I can't believe it's-
Then he remembered his promise to her and all his hopes sank. Crushed, by the harsh fist of reality.
"Onyx...I can't be her parent." He said, hanging his head and turning away.
Onyx tilted her head to the side, raising an eyebrow. And why the hell not? She asked. You've done everything for her since she got here to be considered a first class parent! OK, so you lost her a few times. She amended when he shot her a look. Big deal! Human kids get lost all the time!
"It's not that Onyx," he told her mournfully, closing his eyes. "It's that..." He took a deep breath. "I promised her I would let her leave. After she was done healing. I promised I would let her leave and that I wouldn't come after her."
Onyx rolled her eyes. Now why did you have to go and do a stupid thing like that? She asked, flaring her nostrils in irritation.
Pitch sighed. "You didn't see her, Onyx." He told her, turning away to look back at the girl's sleeping face. "You didn't see the hope in her eyes when I promised she could be free. She doens't like being kept underground, Onyx. She's a free spirit, just like Jack."
Onyx snorted. If she's anything like the winterbringer, you're in big trouble my friend. She told him flatly.
Pitch couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his throat as she continued.
But really, it's your choice Pitch. Yours and hers. You can let her go and hope that she makes it out there like Jack did, or you can keep her locked away here without any other spiritual contact and hope that she doesn't grow up despising you and everything you stand for.
The Boogeyman sighed tiredly. "Well when you put it that way..." There wasn't much choice there, was there? "I guess I'll talk with her about this in the morning." He said, turning away. But there was still something bothering him as he headed towards the door. "Onyx, stay by her." He told the nightmare automatically as he opened the door with one hand while the other slipped inside his pocket idly. "I'll be by in a few hours to check...on...her?" His sentence trailed away as he frowned, glancing down at his pocket. Something was in there. Something thin, flat and edged.
He pulled it out and discovered the notebook that the girl had handed him, just before her ill-fated escape attempt. He glanced at the still sleeping girl, then back at the book. Maybe it had her name in it! He went to open it, but hesitance stayed his hand. He had given her this book as a gesture of good faith. Looking in it might lose some of the rare trust they had between them.
Then again, he thought, turning the book over in his hands. If she gave it to me, knowing that she might not be back she obviously meant for me to have it.
He opened it carefully and, right off the bat his eyes were drawn to a single name, written in grey across the top of the page. Meggie.
"So that's her name." He whispered softly to himself, elation upon finally knowing flaring up inside his chest and making his hart swell with warmth.
What? Onyx moved over to him. Is that the book you gave her? She asked, looking at it.
He nodded. "Yes. And she's written her name, along with a note to me." His eclipse eyes quickly skimmed over the note and his facial expressions went through an amusing reel of changes- going from amusement to annoyance, to sadness to fear and then finally to blatent astonishment.
When he finally finished the note, he looked up from the book at the sleeping girl. "Meggie." He whispered, testing out her name on his tongue. "Her name is Meggie."
Meggie. Onyx repeated, also testing it out. Nice name. Doesn't quite fit her, but I guess it'll do.
Pitch nodded, staring at her calm, peaceful face. "Yeah." He murmured. "I guess it'll do."